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It’s like you can’t have one without the other, ya know? Like I’m equal parts God and the devil. A cloak of shame covers this man, and only supreme light will wash my body clean. But how could that light possibly reach me with the thick clouds of indecency that surround my poor soul? So I carry my wrongdoings on my back like some kind of tormented hiker lost in the hills of misfortune, looking desperately for that peak to rescue him from the valley of depraved habitual self-pleasuring.
But again, I find nothing, except for sweaty devastated loneliness, and a thousand judging eyes staring back at me from the cover of a stolen Victoria’s Secret catalog: “I didn’t take your mail, Mrs. Pemberton. Stop asking me that. Leave me alone!”
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All Comments (41) Comments
Ohh and i-i-it's not like I w-wanted to congratulate you, b-baka~
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